Brandon is back from college, and he’s been experimenting with pumping and jelqing. Now he’s home again to visit his single dad, and gets the idea to see if he’s bigger than his old man.

Chapter 6: Jelqing Obedience

The bathroom light buzzed faintly, casting a harsh glow over the cracked tiles and the faded shower curtain. Brandon stood frozen, his back pressed against the sink, the cold porcelain biting into his palms. Michael loomed in the doorway, his shadow stretching long and dark across the floor. "Alright," Michael said, his voice low and steady, like gravel underfoot. "Enough playing around. Let’s see what you can really do." He gestured toward the bathroom with a tilt of his head, his eyes sharp and unyielding. "In there. Now."

Brandon’s chest tightened, his breath catching in his throat as he took a hesitant step forward. He could feel the weight of Michael’s gaze, heavy and unrelenting, pinning him in place. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the words trembling on his tongue. Michael’s lips curved into a smirk, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. "I want you to jelq," he said, his voice dropping to a husky growl. "Right there, in front of me. And don’t you dare look away." He stepped closer, the heat of his body radiating against Brandon’s, the scent of his cologne sharp and intoxicating. "I want to see how good you really are."

Brandon’s pulse quickened, his hands trembling as he reached for the bottle of lotion on the shelf. The plastic felt slick in his grip, the coolness of the lotion pooling in his palm as he squeezed it out. He glanced at Michael, his father’s eyes dark and unreadable, locked onto him with an intensity that made his stomach twist. "Okay," Brandon murmured, the word barely audible, a fragile surrender. He turned toward the mirror, his reflection pale and wide-eyed, and began to work the lotion into his skin, his fingers clumsy with nerves.

Michael leaned against the sink, his arms crossed, his gaze never wavering. The air between them felt charged, electric, the silence thick with anticipation. Brandon’s hands moved hesitantly at first, his strokes shallow and unsure, but as the warmth spread, his movements grew bolder. He could feel his cock responding, the blood rushing to fill it, the skin tightening with every pull. "That’s it," Michael murmured, his voice rough and approving. "Show me what you’ve got."

Brandon’s breath hitched as he increased the pressure, his fingers working in rhythm, the sensation building with each stroke. His cock swelled, the head darkening, veins standing out against the flushed skin. He glanced at Michael, his father’s expression still unreadable, but his eyes burned with something primal, something hungry. "Fuck," Brandon breathed, the word slipping out unbidden, his body trembling with the intensity of it. He could feel the heat pooling in his groin, the pressure mounting, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

Michael stepped closer, his hand settling on Brandon’s hip, fingers digging into the flesh with a possessive grip. "Don’t stop," he growled, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down Brandon’s spine. Brandon’s movements became more urgent, his strokes harder, faster, his body arching into the sensation. He could feel himself teetering on the edge, the pleasure coiling tight in his gut, threatening to unravel. "Come on, son," Michael urged, his voice rough with desire, his thumb brushing over the tip of Brandon’s cock, smearing the pre-cum that had gathered there. "Show me how much you want it."

Brandon’s head fell back, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as his body seized, his cock pulsing in his hand. Thick ropes of cum shot out, splattering against the tiles, the sound wet and obscene in the small space. His knees buckled, but Michael’s grip held him upright, his fingers digging deeper into his hip as he rode out the waves of his release. The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the sound of Brandon’s ragged breaths echoing off the walls. He looked at Michael, his father’s eyes still locked on him, the unspoken tension between them heavy and unyielding, the moment stretching out, raw and unbroken.

Michael released Brandon’s hip, stepping back just enough to give him space, but his gaze remained locked on Brandon’s cock, still slick with cum. "Again," he commanded, his voice devoid of any emotion, the word hanging in the air like a challenge. His eyes were sharp, unrelenting, and Brandon could feel the weight of his father’s expectations pressing down on him. The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in, the air thick with tension. Brandon’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in shallow gasps, his body still trembling from the release.

"What?" Brandon gasped, his voice barely audible, his eyes wide with disbelief. He blinked at Michael, his chest heaving, his cock throbbing with a dull ache. "I just came, Dad. I can’t..." His words trailed off, his voice cracking, his mind struggling to process the demand. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a shaky hand, his legs feeling weak beneath him. The thought of going again so soon felt impossible, but the intensity in Michael’s eyes left no room for argument.

Michael’s eyes narrowed, his lips curving into a cruel smirk. "I didn’t ask if you could," he said, his voice cold and unforgiving, the words slicing through the air like a blade. He leaned closer, his breath hot against Brandon’s ear, his tone dripping with authority. "I told you to. Now, get back to it." He gestured toward the bottle of lotion with a flick of his wrist, his movements sharp and deliberate. "Unless you want me to help you." His voice dropped to a low growl, the threat implicit, sending a shiver down Brandon’s spine.

Brandon swallowed hard, his throat dry, his mind racing. The thought of Michael touching him again, of being subjected to his father’s intense scrutiny, both terrified and aroused him. He could feel the heat pooling in his groin, the ache in his cock already returning, his body betraying him. Without a word, he reached for the lotion, his hands shaking, and squeezed out another dollop, the cool liquid a stark contrast to the heat still coursing through his veins. His fingers trembled as he spread it over his cock, the sensation both familiar and overwhelming.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror, his face flushed, his eyes bloodshot, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. He looked like a mess, a pathetic, desperate mess, but he couldn’t stop himself. He had to prove himself, had to show Michael that he was worthy. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort, and began to jelq again, his movements slow and deliberate at first. The sensation was almost too much, his cock still tender from the previous onslaught, but he pushed through the discomfort.

As the blood began to flow, as the sensation returned, his movements grew bolder, more confident. He could feel his cock swelling, the head darkening, the veins standing out like ropes, a testament to his efforts. His breath quickened, his body arching into the sensation, his mind consumed by the rhythm of his movements. He glanced at Michael, his father’s eyes never wavering, his expression still unreadable. Brandon tried to ignore him, to focus on the sensation, to lose himself in the act, but it was impossible. He could feel Michael’s gaze burning into him, judging him, pushing him to the limit.

As he continued to jelq, he noticed something strange, something almost unbelievable. His cock was getting bigger, longer, thicker than it had ever been before. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes widening with disbelief. It was as if the jelqing was actually working, as if his cock was responding to the pressure, growing with each stroke. The veins pulsed visibly, the skin stretched taut, the head swollen and glistening. He felt a surge of pride, of power, the thrill of seeing his efforts pay off.

"What the fuck?" Michael muttered, his voice barely audible, his eyes glued to Brandon’s cock. He stepped closer, his gaze intensifying, his expression a mix of surprise and something darker. "Is that thing actually getting bigger?" His hand reached out instinctively, his fingers brushing against Brandon’s cock, sending a jolt of electricity through him. The touch was rough, almost possessive, and Brandon’s breath hitched, his body tensing at the contact.

Brandon grinned, a surge of triumph coursing through him. "Told you I’ve been working on it," he said, his voice breathless, his eyes locked with Michael’s. "Guess it’s paying off." He continued to jelq, his movements becoming more frantic, more desperate, his body arching into the sensation. He could feel himself getting close again, the pressure building, the heat pooling in his groin, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. His cock throbbed in his hand, the veins bulging, the skin stretched to its limit.

Michael stepped closer, his hand reaching out, his fingers brushing against Brandon’s cock, sending a jolt of electricity through him. "Let me see that," he said, his voice low and husky, his eyes dark with desire. His grip tightened around Brandon’s shaft, his fingers moving with a practiced rhythm, his thumb brushing over the head of Brandon’s cock, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him. Brandon gasped, his body tensing, his cock pulsing in Michael’s grip. He could feel the heat radiating from his father’s hand, the roughness of his skin against his own, the sensation both overwhelming and intoxicating.

"Come on, son," Michael growled, his voice rough and demanding, his eyes locked with Brandon’s. "Show me how much bigger you can get." He began to stroke, his hand moving faster, harder, his eyes never leaving Brandon’s, the unspoken challenge hanging in the air between them. Brandon’s head fell back, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as his body seized, his cock pulsing in Michael’s hand. Thick ropes of cum shot out, splattering against the tiles, the sound wet and obscene in the small space. His knees buckled, but Michael’s grip held him upright, his fingers digging deeper into his hip as he rode out the waves of his release. The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the sound of Brandon’s ragged breaths echoing off the walls.

Michael stepped back, his chest heaving, his eyes wide as they roamed over Brandon’s swollen cock. "What the hell was that?" he breathed, his voice hoarse, almost disbelieving. He grabbed the measuring tape from the edge of the sink, the metal glinting in the harsh light, his hands trembling slightly as he extended it. "No fucking way..." His voice trailed off, his focus sharpening as he stared at the tape, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing.

He knelt down, the tiles cold against his knees, and carefully positioned the tape against the base of Brandon’s cock. His eyes followed the length of it, his breath hitching as the numbers climbed higher and higher. "Fifteen... almost sixteen inches," he stammered, his voice filled with awe, his jaw slackening as he looked up at Brandon. "How in the fuck...?" He shook his head, his expression a mix of shock and something darker, something primal that made Brandon’s stomach twist.

Brandon grinned, a surge of triumph coursing through him as he flexed his cock, the veins throbbing beneath the stretched skin. "Like I said, Dad," he said, his voice filled with pride, his tone dripping with confidence. "I’ve been working on it." The head bobbed slightly, glistening with pre-cum, the sheer size of it almost comical in its enormity. He could feel the power in it, the way it commanded attention, and it thrilled him.

Michael stood slowly, his eyes never leaving Brandon’s cock, his hand running through his hair in a gesture of disbelief. "That’s... that’s incredible," he muttered, shaking his head, his voice low and rough. He stepped closer, his gaze darkening with desire, his lips parting slightly as he reached out. "I need to feel that," he said, his voice a husky growl, his fingers wrapping around the thick shaft, his thumb tracing the sensitive head.

Brandon gasped, his knees weakening at the contact, his breath hitching as Michael’s hand tightened around him. He closed his eyes, surrendering to the sensation, the pleasure almost overwhelming. The roughness of Michael’s calloused skin against his sensitive flesh sent sparks shooting through him, his body trembling with the intensity of it. "Fuck," he muttered, the word slipping out unbidden, his hips thrusting forward involuntarily.

Michael began to stroke, his hand moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm, his eyes locked on Brandon’s face, watching every flicker of emotion. "Tell me what you want," he whispered, his voice rough with desire, his thumb brushing over the slit, smearing the pre-cum that had gathered there. His grip tightened, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin, the pressure building with every stroke.

Brandon’s head fell back, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as his body arched into the sensation. "Fuck, Dad," he gasped, his voice breaking, his hips thrusting forward, his cock throbbing in Michael’s hand. "I want you... I want you inside me..." His words were desperate, his voice trembling with need, his body begging for release, for more of the raw, primal pleasure that Michael was giving him.

Michael leaned in, his lips brushing against Brandon’s ear, his breath hot and heavy, sending shivers down his spine. "Then beg for it," he whispered, his voice a low growl, the words dripping with lust. "Beg me to fuck you, son." His hand tightened around Brandon’s cock, his thumb pressing against the slit, the pressure almost unbearable.

Brandon’s body seized, a desperate sob escaping his lips as he felt himself teetering on the edge. "Please, Dad," he begged, his voice trembling, his hands gripping the edge of the sink for support. "Please fuck me... I need it..." His cock pulsed in Michael’s hand, the veins bulging, the head swollen and glistening, the pressure coiling tight in his gut.

Michael grinned, a predatory glint in his eyes as he released Brandon’s cock, stepping back to admire the sheer size of it. "That’s what I wanted to hear," he growled, his voice low and dangerous, his hand reaching for his belt buckle. His fingers fumbled with the leather, his eyes never leaving Brandon’s, the tension between them almost unbearable. "Now it’s my turn," he said, his voice dripping with lust. "Get on your knees, son."

Brandon’s heart pounded in his chest, his body trembling with anticipation as he dropped to his knees, the tiles cold and hard beneath him. His eyes locked on Michael’s cock as it sprang free from his pants, the size of it both intimidating and arousing. The thick shaft was already hard, the head glistening with pre-cum, the veins standing out against the flushed skin. He swallowed hard, his mouth watering at the sight, his mind consumed by the raw, primal need to feel it.

Michael smirked, his cock bobbing proudly as he stepped forward, his eyes dark with desire. "Open wide, son," he commanded, his voice dripping with lust, his hand gripping the base of his shaft. "It’s time you learned what a real cock feels like." He pressed the head against Brandon’s lips, the heat of it almost overwhelming, the challenge laid bare between them. Brandon’s lips parted, his tongue darting out to taste the salty pre-cum, his body trembling with anticipation as he took Michael’s cock into his mouth, the thick shaft stretching his lips, the sensation both overwhelming and intoxicating.

Michael’s hips thrust forward, pushing his cock deeper into Brandon’s mouth, the head bumping against his throat, the pressure almost unbearable. "That’s it, son," he growled, his voice rough with lust, his hand gripping the back of Brandon’s head, his fingers digging into his hair. "Swallow it all, every inch." The heat of Michael’s cock burned against Brandon’s tongue, the veins pulsing with every thrust, the salty tang of pre-cum flooding his senses. Brandon’s jaw ached, his throat tightening around the intrusion, but he forced himself to relax, to take it deeper, his body trembling with the effort.

Brandon gagged, his eyes watering, his throat protesting against the intrusion, but he forced himself to comply, his lips tightening around Michael’s shaft, his tongue sliding over the head, savoring the slippery taste of pre-cum. His nose pressed against Michael’s pelvis, the coarse hair tickling his skin, the musky scent of sweat and sex filling his nostrils. He could feel Michael’s power, his dominance, every thrust driving him closer to the edge, and it thrilled him, pushing him to the limit. His hands gripped Michael’s thighs, his nails digging into the firm muscle, his body arching into the sensation.

Michael’s grip tightened, his hips moving faster, his cock sliding deeper into Brandon’s throat, the pressure increasing with each thrust. "Don’t you dare stop," he growled, his voice low and demanding, his eyes locked on Brandon’s face, watching every flicker of emotion. "Swallow it all, every last drop." The thick shaft pulsed in Brandon’s mouth, the head pressing against the back of his throat, the sensation almost unbearable. Brandon’s chest heaved, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, his eyes rolling back in his head as he surrendered to the rhythm.

Brandon’s body trembled, his stomach churning, his throat burning, but he pushed through the discomfort, his lips working furiously, his tongue massaging Michael’s shaft, his mind focused on the sensation, on the raw, primal pleasure that he was giving and receiving. He wanted to please Michael, to earn his approval, to prove that he was worthy. His throat constricted around the thick cock, the veins throbbing beneath his lips, the pressure building with every thrust. He could feel himself getting close, the heat pooling in his groin, his body arching into the sensation.

Michael’s breath hitched, his body tensing, his cock pulsing in Brandon’s mouth, the veins throbbing beneath the stretched skin. "Fuck," he muttered, his voice strained, his hips thrusting forward, his cock sliding deeper into Brandon’s throat, the pressure almost unbearable. "You’re driving me crazy, son." His fingers tightened in Brandon’s hair, pulling him closer, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. The room was filled with the wet, obscene sounds of Brandon’s mouth working his cock, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex.

Brandon’s eyes rolled back in his head, his body arching into Michael’s thrusts, his throat constricting around the thick shaft, the sensation almost overwhelming. He could feel himself getting close, the pressure building, the heat pooling in his groin, his mind consumed by the raw, primal pleasure. His hands gripped Michael’s thighs, his nails digging into the firm muscle, his body trembling with the effort. Every thrust drove him closer to the edge, every pulse of Michael’s cock sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him.

Michael’s grip tightened, his fingers digging deeper into Brandon’s hair, his hips moving faster, harder, his cock sliding deeper and deeper into Brandon’s throat, the pressure almost unbearable. "Come on, son," he growled, his voice rough with desire, his eyes locked on Brandon’s face. "Show me how much you want it." The thick shaft pulsed in Brandon’s mouth, the head pressing against the back of his throat, the sensation almost unbearable. Brandon’s chest heaved, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, his eyes rolling back in his head as he surrendered to the rhythm.

Brandon’s body seized, a desperate sob escaping his lips as he felt himself teetering on the edge. He swallowed hard, his throat burning, his stomach churning, but he forced himself to take Michael’s cock deeper, his lips tightening around the shaft, his tongue sliding over the head, savoring the slippery taste of pre-cum. His nose pressed against Michael’s pelvis, the coarse hair tickling his skin, the musky scent of sweat and sex filling his nostrils. He could feel Michael’s power, his dominance, every thrust driving him closer to the edge, and it thrilled him, pushing him to the limit.

Michael’s breath hitched, his body tensing, his cock pulsing in Brandon’s mouth, the veins throbbing beneath the stretched skin. "Fuck, I’m gonna cum," he groaned, his voice strained, his hips thrusting forward, his cock sliding deeper into Brandon’s throat, the pressure almost unbearable. "Swallow it all, son, every last drop." The thick shaft pulsed in Brandon’s mouth, the head pressing against the back of his throat, the sensation almost unbearable. Brandon’s chest heaved, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, his eyes rolling back in his head as he surrendered to the rhythm.

Michael’s hips thrust forward, his body arching, his muscles tensing as he came, his cum shooting out in thick, hot spurts, filling Brandon’s mouth, the sensation almost overwhelming. He groaned, his voice a primal roar, his body shuddering with the force of his release. The thick, salty fluid flooded Brandon’s mouth, the taste both bitter and sweet, the sensation almost unbearable. Brandon swallowed hard, his throat burning, his stomach churning, but he forced himself to take it all, his lips tightening around the shaft, his tongue sliding over the head, savoring every last drop.

Brandon swallowed hard, his throat burning, his stomach churning, but he forced himself to swallow every last drop of Michael’s cum, his lips tightening around the shaft, his tongue sliding over the head, savoring the salty, musky taste. He wanted to please Michael, to earn his approval, to prove that he was worthy. His throat constricted around the thick cock, the veins throbbing beneath his lips, the pressure building with every thrust. He could feel himself getting close, the heat pooling in his groin, his body arching into the sensation.

Michael’s body went limp, his weight pressing down on Brandon, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He released his grip on Brandon’s hair, his fingers sliding down his neck, his hand resting on his shoulder. "Fuck," he muttered, his voice hoarse, his eyes closed, his body still trembling from the release. "You’re incredible, son." The thick shaft pulsed in Brandon’s mouth, the head pressing against the back of his throat, the sensation almost unbearable. Brandon’s chest heaved, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, his eyes rolling back in his head as he surrendered to the rhythm.

Brandon pulled back slowly, his mouth slick with cum, his throat burning, his stomach churning, his body trembling with exhaustion. He looked at Michael, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and exhaustion, his lips curving into a weak smile. "Did I do good, Dad?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. The thick shaft pulsed in Brandon’s mouth, the head pressing against the back of his throat, the sensation almost unbearable. Brandon’s chest heaved, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, his eyes rolling back in his head as he surrendered to the rhythm.

Michael opened his eyes, his gaze locking with Brandon’s, a mix of lust and pride in his eyes. "You did more than good, son," he said, his voice low and husky, his hand reaching out to cup Brandon’s cheek. "You’re a natural." He paused, his gaze darkening, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And I’m just getting started with you." The thick shaft pulsed in Brandon’s mouth, the head pressing against the back of his throat, the sensation almost unbearable. Brandon’s chest heaved, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, his eyes rolling back in his head as he surrendered to the rhythm.

Michael’s hand slid from Brandon’s cheek, down his neck, and to his chest, fingers tracing the curve of his collarbone. "You're beautiful, son," Michael murmured, his voice a low rumble. "But I need more."

Brandon looked up at him, confusion and anticipation swirling in his eyes. Michael’s hand trailed down to Brandon’s stomach, fingers teasing the edge of his pants. "You want more?" Brandon managed to ask, his voice barely a whisper.

Michael smiled darkly, his fingers working the button of Brandon’s jeans.

"I need to see all of you, son. Every inch." His voice was low and demanding, his eyes never leaving Brandon’s. "I want to explore every part of you."

Brandon’s breath hitched, his stomach fluttering with a mix of fear and excitement. He nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Okay, Dad."

Michael pushed Brandon’s jeans down, his fingers brushing against the hardening bulge in his underwear. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and slowly pulled them down, revealing Brandon’s thick, swollen cock. "Fuck," Michael muttered, his eyes widening at the sight.

Brandon’s cock was even more impressive than before, stretching out before him like a thick, veiny rod. "You’ve really been working on this, haven’t you?"

Brandon smirked, his chest puffing up with pride. "Told you, Dad. I’ve been dedicated."

Michael knelt down, his face inches from Brandon’s cock. He could feel the heat radiating from it, see the veins pulsing beneath the skin. He reached out, his hand wrapping around the thick shaft, his thumb brushing over the head, smearing the pre-cum that had gathered there.

"Fuck, it's massive," he growled, his voice filled with awe and lust. Brandon's breath hitched, his body trembling with anticipation as Michael’s fingers tightened around him, stroking him slowly, teasingly.

Michael lowered his head, his tongue darting out to lick the underside of Brandon’s cock, tasting the salty musk that coated the skin. Brandon gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily, his cock twitching in Michael’s hand. "Oh, fuck," he moaned, his voice filled with pleasure.

His mouth closed over the head, his lips tightening around the shaft, and he began to take Brandon deeper, inch by inch, his head bobbing up and down. Brandon groaned, his hands gripping Michael’s hair, his hips thrusting forward instinctively, pushing his cock deeper into his father’s mouth.

Michael took him deeper, his nose pressing against Brandon’s pelvis, his lips stretching around the thick girth. Brandon’s cock filled his throat, the pressure almost unbearable as he fought to take more of it.

"Come on, Dad," he urged, his voice a low, desperate growl. "Take it all. You know you want to." He thrust his hips forward, the thick shaft pulsing in Michael’s mouth, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He had been edging his massive cock for hours, the heat building to almost unbearable levels, his body craving release, craving the touch of his father’s mouth.

Michael looked up at him, his eyes watering, his cheeks hollowed from the effort. He was determined to take every inch, to prove to his son that he could handle it. He nodded, his lips tightening around the shaft, and took Brandon deeper, his nose pressing against Brandon’s pelvis, the wet sound of his son’s cock sliding in and out of his mouth filling the small bathroom.

Brandon groaned, his grip on Michael’s hair tightening, his hips thrusting forward, his cock twitching in Michael’s mouth. The pleasure was overwhelming, the sensation of his father’s lips and tongue working him driving him to the edge.

Brandon’s breath hitched, his body trembling with the effort to control himself, to hold back from the brink. He had been edging for hours, the heat building to almost unbearable levels, his body craving release, craving the pleasure that only his father’s mouth could give him. He thrust his hips forward, his cock pulsing in Michael’s mouth, his balls churning with more and more cum, the pressure building with every thrust.

His cock twitched harder, a drop of pre-cum dripping from the slit, splattering onto Michael’s cheek. Brandon’s breath hitched, his body trembling with the effort to hold back, to prolong the exquisite pleasure.

Michael’s eyes widened at the sight of the dripping pre-cum, his tongue flicking out to catch the salty drop. He looked up at Brandon, a wicked glint in his eyes, his lips curving into a filthy smile around Brandon’s cock. "Fuck, son," he growled, his voice muffled by the thick shaft in his mouth. "You're so close, aren't you?" He tightened his grip on Brandon’s hips, urging him to go faster, to push deeper.

But Brandon had other plans. With a wicked grin, he pulled back suddenly, his cock popping free of Michael’s mouth with an audible pop. Michael gasped for air, his eyes watering, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. Brandon smirked, a gleam of triumph in his eyes. He had broken free, gained the upper hand, and now he could indulge in the pleasure of his father’s throat for as long as he wanted. He reached down, his fingers tangling in Michael’s hair, and pulled his head back up, forcing him to look into his eyes. "Not so fast, old man," he growled, his voice filled with lust and power. "I’m not done with you yet."

Michael’s eyes widened at the sight of his son’s cock, slick and glistening with spit, throbbing with arousal.

"You’re amazing, son," he whispered, his voice husky with lust. Brandon’s smirk widened, his grip on Michael’s hair tightening, his hips thrusting forward, his cock bobbing and weaving in front of his father’s face. "You like that, don’t you, Dad?" he taunted, his eyes gleaming with a mix of pride and defiance. "You like seeing how much I’ve grown."

Michael's lips curled into a wicked grin, his gaze never leaving Brandon's cock. "I like it more than you know," he admitted, his voice a low, dangerous growl. He reached out, his fingers wrapping around the thick shaft, his thumb brushing over the sensitive head.

Brandon gasped, his knees buckling, his grip on Michael’s hair tightening, pulling his head back, forcing him to look into his eyes. "You like that, don’t you?" he growled, his voice filled with a mix of lust and defiance, his hips thrusting forward instinctively, his cock twitching in Michael’s hand.

"Fuck, yes," Michael groaned, his eyes locked onto Brandon’s, the hunger in them undeniable. He could feel Brandon’s power, the raw, primal need driving him, and it thrilled him. He had never seen his son like this, had never known this side of him existed. He wanted more, needed more, and he wasn’t afraid to take it.

"Now, Dad," Brandon commanded, his voice low and dominant, his grip on Michael’s hair tightening. Michael’s eyes watered, not from the discomfort, but from the sheer intensity of the moment. He looked up at Brandon, his gaze locked onto his son's, the hunger in them undeniable. He had never seen Brandon like this, had never known this side of him existed, and it was both terrifying and exhilarating. Brandon’s incredible cock throbbed in his hand, the veins pulsing with each beat of his son’s heart. Michael couldn’t deny the raw, primal desire that consumed him. He needed to taste, to feel, to own every inch of Brandon.

This was his son, his flesh and blood, yet the sight of him now, dominant and commanding, was intoxicating. Michael’s eyes watered as he looked up at Brandon, the intensity of his gaze almost unbearable. He could see the hunger in Brandon’s eyes, the raw, primal need that echoed his own. It was terrifying and exhilarating, a primal call that Michael couldn’t deny.

"You’re sure about this, son?" Michael asked, his voice a low growl, his grip on Brandon’s cock tightening. Part of him was still the protective father, needing to ensure that this was what Brandon truly wanted, what he truly desired.

Brandon’s eyes blazed with a mix of lust and defiance.

"I said, now, Dad," he growled, his voice a low, commanding rumble as he pushed Michael’s head down, forcing him to take Brandon’s cock back into his mouth. Michael groaned, his eyes watering as he took Brandon deeper, the thick shaft filling his throat, the sensation overwhelming.

His hands gripped Brandon’s hips, urging him to thrust harder, to take what he needed, what they both desired. Brandon’s grip on Michael’s hair tightened, his hips moving in time with Michael’s urgings, his cock sliding in and out of his father’s mouth in a steady, punishing rhythm.

As Michael’s tongue swirled around the head and his lips sucked and teased, Brandon’s cock continued to throb bigger, growing even larger and harder with each thrust. The sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure almost unbearable, and Brandon knew he wouldn’t last much longer. He had been edging himself for hours, the heat building to almost unbearable levels, his body craving release, craving the pleasure that only his father’s mouth could give him. He could feel the pressure building, the pleasure coiling tight in his groin, his balls churning with more and more cum. He looked down at his father, his eyes locked onto the sight of Michael’s lips wrapped around his cock, his body shuddering with each thrust.

But as the pleasure built to almost unbearable levels, Brandon knew he wanted more. He wanted to see all of his father, to explore every inch of his body, to claim it as his own.

Michael gasped for air, his eyes watering, his chest heaving as he looked up at Brandon, his lips curled into a wicked grin. Twenty inches of Brandon’s enormous, fat cock bobbed free in the air, glistening with saliva and pre-cum, a sight that sent a thrill of desire coursing through Michael’s body. He reached up, his hand wrapping around the thick shaft, his thumb brushing over the sensitive head. "Fuck, son," he growled, his voice filled with awe and lust.

Brandon, with an insistent tug on Michael's hair, forced him to turn around.

"What are you—" Michael started to ask, but Brandon cut him off, his voice a low, commanding rumble.

"I want more, Dad. I want to feel you, all of you." He pressed the head of his cock against Michael's ass, the pre-cum slicking the way.

Michael tensed, his body rigid with apprehension. "Brandon, I don't know—"

But Brandon was insistent, his cock throbbing with desire, his body aching with need. "Relax, Dad. I'll go slow." He pressed forward, the head of his cock pushing into Michael, the tightness almost overwhelming.

Michael groaned, his body trembling with the intrusion, the burn almost unbearable.

Brandon paused, his cock halfway inside his father, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. "You okay, Dad?" he asked, his voice ragged with breath and desire. The tightness was incredible, the heat almost overwhelming, but Brandon was determined to go slow, to give Michael time to adjust. He could feel his father's body tensing, resisting the intrusion, and he knew that he had to be careful, had to be gentle. But the raw, primal pleasure that coursed through him at the thought of claiming his father was intoxicating, driving him to the edge of madness. "Relax, Dad," he whispered, his voice a low, soothing rumble, his hands gripping Michael's hips, urging him to push back, to take more of him. Michael closed his eyes, his breath coming in shallow gasps, his body still taut with tension.

Brandon’s cock slid deeper, inch by agonizing inch, the tightness of his father’s ass almost overwhelming. He gritted his teeth, his hands gripping Michael’s hips tighter, his knuckles turning white as he fought to control himself, to keep from losing it too soon. The heat was incredible, the sensation of being enveloped in his father’s body driving him to the brink. He could feel every ridge and vein of his cock being squeezed, the pressure almost unbearable. Sweat dripped from his forehead, stinging his eyes, as he slowly, carefully, relentlessly pushed deeper. Michael let out a low, guttural groan, his body trembling with the effort to relax, to take more of his son.

He exhaled deeply, his muscles slowly uncoiling, his body surrendering to the intrusion. The burn eased somewhat, and Brandon took the opportunity to push deeper, his cock sliding further into his father’s tight heat. Michael’s breath hitched, his body tense once more, but he forced himself to relax, to let Brandon in. He could feel every inch of his son, the thick veins, the pulsing heat, the raw power that radiated from him. It was overwhelming, almost too much, but he wanted it, needed it, craved it like he had never craved anything before.

Brandon’s hands gripped Michael’s hips tighter, his fingers digging into the firm muscle, his knuckles turning white as he fought to control himself, to keep from losing it too soon.

He pushed deeper, the tightness of his father’s ass almost overwhelming, until finally, with a grunt of effort, he slid his balls deep into Michael’s hungry muscle, feeling the soft sacs press against his father’s flesh. Michael let out a deep, primal groan, his body shuddering with the sensation, the burn now replaced with a raw, intense pleasure that sent shockwaves through him. He could feel every inch of his son inside him, the thick cock pulsing, the heavy balls nestled against him, the raw, primal connection between them overwhelming in its intensity. "Fuck, son," he growled, his voice a low, guttural rumble, his body trembling with the effort to hold back, to not come from the sheer intensity of the sensation. "You're so big, so deep. It feels...

fuck, it feels so good," Michael panted, his body trembling with the intensity of the sensation. Brandon, finally buried to the hilt inside his father, began to move, slowly at first, his hips rocking gently, his thick cock sliding in and out of Michael’s tight heat. He gripped his father’s hips tighter, his fingers digging into the firm muscle, his knuckles turning white as he started to thrust, his large cock gliding deeper and deeper with each movement. Michael groaned, his body shaking as he felt the slow, deliberate thrusts, the pleasure coursing through him like a wildfire. He braced himself against the cold tile wall, his hands splayed out, his knuckles white with the effort to stay upright. His breath came in ragged gasps, his eyes squeezed shut, his body aching with the raw, intense pleasure that Brandon was giving him.